


You Should Show Me Some Respect

by Carry_on_Wayward_Daughter



Series: Pure, Unadultered Smut [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom!Cas, M/M, Sort of rough smut, Sub!Dean, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carry_on_Wayward_Daughter/pseuds/Carry_on_Wayward_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone in the middle of a hunt, Dean gets into an uncomfortable situation and is left with no other choice than to take care of it. He's just fine flying solo, but when he accidentally calls Castiel to his side, things get a bit... heated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Should Show Me Some Respect

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by the picture below, and it does NOT belong to me. If I knew who the owner was, all credit for the picture would go to them.

 

 

Dean leaned up against the front of the Impala, beer in hand, and wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt. It had been a rough couple of days, and the hunt wasn't going so well. They were tracking down a rugaru, and Sam had gone to the library to do some more research and dig through the towns archives while Dean had taken the back roads to investigate the area surrounding the murders.

Yep.

Just another day in the life of Dean Winchester.

God, he was so fucking _tired_ of it. Why couldn't he and Sam have been born into a _normal_ life? Why'd they have to be hunters? He wished that he'd never had to do any of this and that he could just go home, find his mom in their old house in Lawrence baking a pie while John worked at the body shop in town and Sam and Jess were going to Stanford and planning their wedding.

Of course, everything he'd done since his first hunt would have been undone, but his family would be happy and healthy. That was all he wanted.

But then then he never would have met Cas and the angel would still be heaven's pawn and a mindless soldier, and that wasn't something he wanted for his friend. He didn't want to go back to that time when those blue eyes had been hard, cold and unfeeling. He didn't want Cas to go back to being _Castiel, Angel of the Lord._ He didn't want to see Cas become a tool for heaven to use for their own, petty desires again.

In the time he'd known Cas, the angel had grown out of that and become his own person, had developed weird quirks and a weirder personality. He didn't understand all the references Dean made, he got excited over the littlest things, like honey bees and guinea pigs, he didn't complain when Dean blared his music and sang along obnoxiously.

And he never looked down on Dean.

Every time the angel looked at him, there was an odd mix of wonder and confusion, like Cas couldn't really understand what he was looking at but didn't want to look away. Dean didn't want to look away, either. He just wanted to get lost in that blue gaze and--

" _Fuck,"_ he hissed. He felt himself hardening and he was starting to pitch a tent in his jeans. "Son of a bitch!"

This had been happening a lot lately. Every time he thought about Cas when he was alone, he'd get a raging hard on that refused to go away. He'd tried before to stop them in their tracks, but every time, he'd see this flash of blue in his mind's eye and it'd get worse.

He ran his hand through his hair and growled to himself, glancing around. He was already straining against his zipper, and the teeth were digging into his too-sensitive dick.

Dean chewed his lip, then reached down his duffle bag at his feet, searching for the bottle of lube he kept for just this situation. He'd jerked off dry too many times in the past and wasn't about to do it again, especially since this seemed to be happening to him more frequently. Thank God Sam hadn't found it yet.

He pulled off his shirt so he woudn't get anything on it, then quickly unbuttoned his fly and pulled his pants and boxers down just far enough that he was free. His dick was standing at full mast and twitched as he poured a good amount of lube into his palm and rubbed it quickly, warming it up.

Dean leaned back and took a deep breath, glancing around to make sure no one was driving up, then wrapped a hesitant hand around his dick, grasping firmly at the base.

" _Fuck!"_ he hissed again as he drew a slow hand up along his shaft. His hips bucked up into his fist, the lube slicking the way easily. Warmth pooled low in his stomach and coiled tightly. " _God... dammit--"_

He was never really vocal during sex or masturbation, but that was normally because it was a quick jerk in the shower while Sam ran and got coffee or out for his morning run or some shit. Out here, alone on a back road that hadn't been used in months, he could be as loud as he wanted.

A flash of blue darted across the backs of his eyelids and he clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He thought of blue eyes and dark hair, of trench coats and the shadows of wings.

"C-Cas," he mumbled, arching his neck and exposing his throat to the blaring sun. " _Cas...."_

He slowly found his rythm and he was just starting to relax when he heard the gente rustle of feathers before a shadow fell across him.

"Dean?"

The hunter froze at the gravelly voice as his hand stilled and he slowly cracked his eyes open.

Fuck!

"Um... hey, Cas. How's it hangin'?"

_Smooth, Winchester._

An angel of the Lord had just caught him jerking himself off, moaning said angel's name. Wonderful. Just fucking perfect.

"I- you-- Dean, what are you doing?" Cas asked curiously, his eyes darting down between Dean's legs.

His hand tightened around his dick reflexively and he hissed, hips surging up as he fucked into his fist.

"S-sorry, Cas," he said hoarsely. Cas just looked at him, eyes squinted and head tilted to the side, studying him. Dean knew he should probably cover up, but he couldn't force his hand from his crotch. Cas' eyes had him pinned to the hood of his car.

"You said my name," the angel said slowly. "You called for me."

"Uh... no, I-- I wasn't--"

"If you weren't calling for me," Cas interrupted, his voice going husky and low... well, low _er,_ "then what were you doing, Dean?"

Oh, God... _fuck_ , that _voice..._ his _name..._. The way Cas said it sent the blood straight to his dick and it twitched in his hand. Dean groaned and squeezed lightly. He started to stroke himself again, but Cas caught his wrist. Dean wanted to whimper, but clamped his lower lip between his teeth.

"What were you _doing_ , Dean?" Cas asked softly, his tone forcefull and demanding.

"Cas--"

"If you want to finish, Dean, you will tell me. If you weren't calling for me, then what were you doing?"

Cas' eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and his cheeks were turning a light pink. Oh _God... **Fuck....**_

"I- imagined-- picturing- _you,_ " Dean gasped, rolling his hips as he tried to find the friction he needed. He was still hard and it was borderline painful, and having Cas keep him from jerking off was fucking hell.

He chewed his lip as he watched Cas' eyes widen slightly and his grip on Dean's wrist loosened. He sighed in relief and moved to touch himself again, but froze when Castiel barked a sharp order at him.

"Don't," Cas snapped, then softened his voice as he moved to kneel in front of Dean. "Don't. Keep your hands face down on the hood, Dean, and _keep_ them there. Do you understand?" Dean held his breath as Cas' fingers hooked into the belt loops of his pants, barely pulled down over his hips. Cas stopped and sent a heated glare up at Dean. He squeezed Dean's hips lightly, but it was hard enough to let Dean know who was in charge now. "I said, _do you understand?_ "

Dean sucked in a breath, then nodded furiously.

"I understand," he said hoarsely. Cas smiled softly at him, then pulled Dean's jeans lower down his legs.

"Good," he breathed. He lowered his head and started pressing his lips softly across Dean's hips, dancing around the base of his dick. "You could have called for me," he whispered. "You did not have to deal with this yourself."

"I didn't--"

He let out a short gasp as Cas dug his thumbs into Dean's skin, silencing him.

"Did I say you could speak, Dean?" He looked up at him again and arched a brow. Dean shook his head. Cas smiled again and ran his hands up along Dean's thighs, caressing his hips. His breathing sped up as Cas licked and teased, avoiding his dick. He wanted to growl at Cas to hurry up, then thought better of it. _Cas_ was in charge here, not Dean. And, to be honest, Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't honestly enjoying himself.

Cas started kissing his way up Dean's dick, tongue darting in and out teasingly, and Dean wanted to yell with the frustration. Instead, he clamped down harder on his lip and whimpered, letting his head hit the Impala's hood.

Finally-- _finally_ \-- Cas' lips closed over the swollen head of his dick, and the wet heat made Dean want to bury his fingers into that dark mess of hair and pull him closer, but he remembered what Cas said about keeping his hands on Baby. He moaned and curled his hands, his nails scraping at the black paint, and his back arched. He tried to thrust into Cas' mouth, but the angel put a hand on Dean's abdomen and forced him back down.

Cas' tongue cradled the sensitive underside as he took Dean in, inch by slow inch, until he couldn't take anymore. He hollowed out his cheeks, sucking and licking. Dean moaned and the angel laughed around him, the vibrations nearly killing Dean.

He pulled off with an audible, popping sound and Dean whimpered at the loss. He pushed himself up into a half-sitting position and propped himself up on his elbows. He frowned, then his eyes widened as he saw Cas grab the bottle of lube he'd dropped on the ground.

"Turn," he demanded, and Dean just looked at him, stunned. Cas growled impatiently, then grabbed his wrist and, suddenly, Dean found himself bent over the hood, face down. His breathing quickened again as he watched Cas' reflection in the windshield.

Cas grabbed his hips and started massaging small circles in the small of his back gently, completely opposite from the way he'd just manhandled him into position. The contrast had Dean reeling. He relaxed into the gentle hands, eyes drifting closed. Cas' hands started travelling further down and Dean gasped at the first touch of lube slicked fingers. He started to push himself up to steady himself, but Cas deftly grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back with one hand while his other halted its movements.

"Dean," he growled, and the hunter shivered at the low, gravelly tone. "If you want to stop at any point in time, just say it and I'll stop, but you have to _tell_ me. Do you understand?" Dean gave a little nod, but that's not what the angel was looking for. He released Dean's wrists and buried his fingers in his hair, pulling back lightly. "I asked you a question, Dean."

"I understand," he said breathlessly. Cas smiled and smoothed his hair back down, then leaned in to press a kiss to the nape of his neck. Dean shuddered, then pillowed his head on his arms. "Dont-- don't stop, Cas...."

"Good," he murmurred against his skin and trailed kisses along Dean's shoulder blades. Cas resumed what he was doing and circled Dean's hole, then gently pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscle. Dean's eyes flew open and he gasped. Cas stopped, waiting for Dean to adjust. The hunter gritted his teeth in frustration and pushed his hips backwards.

He heard Cas chuckle before he placed a firm hand between Dean's shoulders, stilling his movements. Dean held his breath as Cas worked on him, then gasped again as the angel added another finger. Dean tried to keep from squirming under Cas' unyielding hold, but he couldn't stop his hips from chasing Cas' fingers.

Cas leaned over him again, fingers still working, and bit lightly at his shoulder, then crooked his fingers just right. Dean jerked and arched his back as Cas' fingers brushed the sensitive patch of nerves inside him.

" _Fuck,_ " he moaned before he could stop himself. He prepared for Cas to manhandle him for talking, then hissed as Cas drug his fingers across that spot again, slowly and deliberately. He balled his hands into tight fists and closed his eyes, clenching his teeth so he wouldn't say anything else.

"You may speak if you don't like something, Dean," Cas whispered huskily. "Do you want to stop?"

"Fuck no," Dean growled, pushing back on the angel's fingers.

"Such foul language," Cas murmurred. "We'll have to do something about that, won't we?"

Dean sent a confused look over his shoulder, then gasped when Cas added a third finger and started to stretch him. He groaned and rested his forehead against the warm metal of the hood, jerking every now and then when Cas brushed against that cluster of nerves.

After a minute or two, Cas pulled away and Dean heard the rustle of clothing before he felt Cas return to him. The angel grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, kicking his legs as far apart as they would go with his pants still around his knees.

"Once more, Dean," Cas said. "Do you want to stop?"

"Just fucking _do_ it, dammit!" he snarled. Unexpectedly, Cas' hand reached out and grabbed the nape of his neck. Dean yelped as Cas pinned him to the hood of the car with a firm-- though not unpleasant-- hold.

Cas leaned down and brushed his lips against his ear.

"You should show me some respect," he whispered, then pushed into him quickly and without hesitation.

Dean gasped and strained against the tight hold on the back of his neck as Cas waited for him to adjust. His breath came in short gasps and his hands were pressed hard against the hood as he waited for Cas to start moving.

He wasn't.

Dean growled in frustration, then rocked backwards onto Cas' dick, eliciting a sharp gasp from the angel. He grinned at finally having broken through that dominant display, but his triumph was cut short when, assured that Dean had adjusted just fine to Cas being inside him, Cas snapped his hips forward in a sharp thrust, nailing Dean's prostate just right.

Dean moaned and pressed his cheek further into the metal, trying to ground himself. His dick jerked with every thrust. Cas, for all the forcefulness and aggression, was being quiet, save for a few phrases muttered in Enochian and the growling of Dean's name.

Dean was close; the the tension in his stomach was coiling more tightly and he was starting to feel the shakiness in his legs.

" _C-Cas...._ "

Suddenly, Cas pulled out of him and the hunter collapsed against his Baby, panting and still hard. He frowned in confusion; Cas hadn't come. Why was he stopping?

Cas flipped him again until he was on his back and looking up into vivid blue eyes. Cas' pupils were blown wide and looked mostly black with a thin band of blue running the perimeter.

The angel quickly finished removing Dean's pants, then propped him up on the hood before pulling him close and wrapping Dean's legs around his-- still fully clothed-- waist. Dean hadn't noticed before, but Cas had just pushed his pants down far enough that his dick was free.

He pushed back into Dean without preamble and the hunter gasped and arched into him, grasping at Cas' shoulders, fingers bunched in the tan material of the trench coat.

" _Ca-as,"_ he moaned as Cas dipped his head down to trace Dean's tattoo with the tip of his tongue.

"Wanted to see," he grunted, thrusting forcefully against Dean, whose arms had gone completely around him. One hand was bunched in the cloth between Cas' shoulder blades and the other was buried in his hair. "Wanted to see you come... wanted to see your face...."

" _Cas,_ " Dean begged. "Cas, _please--_ "

"Please, what?"

"Cas, I- I can't-- I- I'm going to--"

Cas growled and dug his fingers into Dean's hips. He thrust faster, harder, trying to reach the edge.

Dean came with a shout, thick, white ropes spurting between them as Cas pounded into him, once, twice, three more times before Cas poured into him. Dean reached one hand behind him to steady them both as Cas leaned heavily against him, both of them shaking with the force of their orgasms. Cas pressed his forehead to Dean's, eyes closed, and they both stayed there, trying to catch their breath.

Finally, Cas looked up, but now-- _now_ \-- he looked like a fucking blushing virgin, all sheepish and innocent. Dean scoffed and took the angel's chin in hand before pressing his lips to Cas'.

"We're _definitely_ doin' that again," he said firmly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is only my second smutty Destiel fic, so I'm sorry if it's not up to par. I do hope you enjoyed it, though, and thanks for reading!!!


End file.
